


SoDo's Writing Pile

by SoDoLaFaMiDoRe



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: But I'm busy with finishing my education, Dumps, I have a lot of stories needing my attention, I'll put specific warnings by chapter, Multi, So we're leaving them here to revisit in a few months or years, This is called, unedited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 05:30:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5856022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoDoLaFaMiDoRe/pseuds/SoDoLaFaMiDoRe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm very busy with schooling, and need to keep my works organized, so all of my Transformers Prompts and Gifts will go here. Tagged by Pairing in the Chapter Title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	SoDo's Writing Pile

**Author's Note:**

> Note, these stories are unedited, please forgive any errors in terms of plot and grammar.
> 
> A million thank you's to [Cytokiine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Cytokiine) for letting me play in the sandbox of their Universe!!
> 
> Chapter Warnings for Chapter 1: Fighting, Injury, Bleeding, and Sparkeaters, but it's all pretty tame.

Almost perfect… He was so close to a breakthrough on the synthetic energon, so close to getting the formula perfect. If it would just stabilize! Sighing in frustration, he felt his plating prickle as he stared at the bubbling green mixture. Taking one of the crystals he’d been using as a preliminary test, he dropped the mixture onto the plant. It immediately fizzles and cracks the crystal, leaving an awful smell as the cyberlife bubbled.

Resisting the urge to throw the entire pot in against the wall, he sealed the jar and slipped it in the box where he’d been placing the other failed experiments. Even with the spymaster prowling his rooms, he’d at least respected that the experiments weren’t posing enough of, if any, threat to others. 

Smacking his helm in frustration, Lancelet worriedly beeped around him as he felt cleaning fluid prick under his visor. He was missing something important, and if he couldn’t figure it out before anyone discovered it, he might as well chug all the failed experiments and hope the acid killed him before he could be helped. If anyone else, especially Predaking’s spymaster found out, he would be condemned before he could say a word in his defense.

“First Aid?”

Oh damn him and all this to the Pit. Whipping around to face the door, First Aid attempted to control his spiking armor and smooth it back to its normal positioning, but the spymaster had snuck up on him and was far too close for comfort. It flared out in a threat display before he could even begin to control, the scent of another mech causing his mouth to salivate as his fangs began to push. He hadn’t fed in far too long.

The part of his processor not focused on food registered Soundwave’s blatant surprise, taking in his sharp appearance as his normally-blunt fingers were wicked claws. It would almost be funny, if he could intimidate the unflappable spymaster, but the fact that he’d been discovered became more important than feeding.

The silence stretched on, First Aid’s medical protocols worrying he’d sent the spymaster into a crash, when the Predacon closed the distance between them. Taking a step back and placing his hands up, his processor began to race a million miles an hour in an attempt to come up with a plan that would put some more distance between himself and the Predacon. That proved a problem when the room itself isn’t very large, made smaller by the looming spymaster as his own armor stayed on edge. 

“Soundwave, I can explain.” Attempting to circle and get closer to the door wasn’t working with the only way blocked by the Predacon, and First Aid was squashing his instincts to attack and feed. The spymaster appeared to be coming out of his shock, and First Aid had barely a nanoklick to react before the spymaster was attacking him, his own claws out and ready to kill the medic.

His arms went up to stop a swipe of the claws, ripping into his spiked plating as it tore into his lines. His venting labored as pain flared out over his neural net. Crying out, he tripped over himself attempting to circle around the mech. Keeping his bleeding arms up, he blindly scooted backwards, kicking at the legs of the mech as he hit the wall, cowering behind his bleeding arms. He knew, deep in his spark, this day was coming, but it didn’t stop the pain in his arms or the ache deep in his spark as he faced death. He’d been so close!

First Aid hadn’t realized he’d curled up into a whimpering ball until the awaited-blows didn’t come. Looking up curiously, he took in the confused expression on Soundwave’s face, with it’s angry creases and flared plating, the Predacon had luckily stopped. He could feel his fuel tank attempting to pump out of his chest as his armor wavered, energon dripping down his plating to form a growing puddle on the floor.

Taking a step back, Soundwave didn’t relax his guarded stance. After another terse moment, First Aid began to move, suppressing a hiss of pain at the stinging in his plating. Others parts were stiffening from the blows, and he was going to be shocked if he didn’t feel the urge to spend the rest of the day in his berth. If he was allowed to live that long.

Getting shakily to his knees, using the wall as a support to rise and stand, he kept a wary eye on Soundwave as his pain overtook the hunger and fear, finally retracting his plating back to his normal Cybertronian look, now much hungerier, fuel levels dropped considerably, and the energon was going to be crusting in his wrist joints soon.  
And Soundwave still hadn’t moved, prompting First Aid to try and smooth the mess over before the guards were commed to swarm the room.

“I can explain, if you give me your word you won’t attack me again until I’ve said my piece.” Warily attempting to stem the bleeding wound, he noted his words got Soundwave back into actions, the Predacon’s plating flaring as he flinched back at the display. 

It seemed that the normally stoic mech was still at a complete loss for words, unable to even find the words how to question First Aid’s apparent change. Sighing, First Aid dug deeper into his spark and found the will to explain the secretive branch of his pedigree and the side affects that came with it.

“Well, considering your role, have you done any research into my House’s line?”

A simpler question, at least, for spymaster to start on and sort the startling information.

“Yes I have, it states you have sparked an uncommon amount of Medics, but much beyond that was told to be merely fables. I am, perplexed at the fact this could be true.” The Predacon’s plating began to smooth back to the normal, well-controlled angles he tended to hold it at.

“Well, it’s more than just rumors. You remember that I’m the youngest of seven yes?” He didn’t wait for an affirmation from the spymaster before continuing. “Well I’m also the third of my siblings to be sparked as a medic, and our stories are more than just legends. I have some anomalies in my spark that influenced my coding and physiology. It apparently all adds together to make me part-sparkeater.”

For once, the spymaster looked at a complete loss for words, defaulting back to what his main job has always been.

“Will you be proving to be a threat to the King or the other consorts?”

First Aid took the opening he had been looking for. “No, I will not prove a threat to your sovereign or the others. I’ve actually been working on a substitute to help qwell any urges to feed, while meeting my nutritional needs. I have not been entirely successful in my efforts yet.”

“What can I do to help?” Soundwave offered, feeling slightly guilty as he took in the crusting scratch on the Medic’s arm.

“Don’t attack me again without good reason.”


End file.
